Broken Strings
by pulling-the-puzzles-apart
Summary: When the worst happens, when love is torn from them in pain and heartbreak, can Kurt and Blaine mend or are the broken strings just too much to bear? WARNING: OC death, Klaine sadness to start.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This story has been eating away at my brain for weeks so I need to write it down! Don't know how often I'll be able to update but hopefully once a week if people are interested. It is inspired by the song 'Broken Strings' by James Morrison and Nelly Furtado which I've also stolen for the title.

**Warnings**: This doesn't start off happy at all and involves an OC death, which causes lots of sadness for Klaine. It does get better but it has a very sad start so please do heed the warning.

* * *

It _had_ been a perfect day. The photo was framed and they stood in a pose fitting two men in the prime of their lives, physically they were both astounding. Crisp black suits, both tailored and tight with bright bowties to accentuate the colour of their eyes. Two completely different colours, two different people with so much in common, now merged and made one.

The weather had been bright and sunny, no clouds in sight, no wind to speak of and Blaine and Kurt had never looked more happy or more attractive. Impeccable suits, perfectly coiffed hair and bright cheery eyes told everyone around them that Blaine and Kurt were the happiest, luckiest couple they had ever met. No one could be jealous, no one could deny that they were perfect together and would have many years of perfect wedded bliss ahead of them. Or so they thought.

Kurt looked at the photo one last time as he packed his final bag, thought momentarily of taking it with him but it was too painful, such a reminder of what they used to feel and be. He placed it face down on the side table and zipped his bag.

No one had been surprised after two years of marriage when Blaine and Kurt announced they were to adopt and had been on the waiting list for what already felt like months. People were excited for them, had seen them interact with Rachel and Finn's children, knew they would make excellent and caring fathers and all they had to do was wait.

Eventually they got their wish in the form of one little Chinese girl they named Lily. She was a year old when her family had decided that they could no longer afford a girl in the family with the one-child policy. They now had a son and had no need for a girl. The thought of anyone being able to do that made Kurt angry but as he picked up Lily for the first time, he realised it was their gain and he was the luckiest guy. As Blaine stood with his arm around Kurt's waist and his finger encased in their new baby's fingers, he had never been happier. It was this memory that caused a lone tear to fall down Kurt's face before he breathed in deeply, took a final look around the place they had once called 'home' and walked out the door for good.

* * *

"He's gone," Blaine said calmly, on the phone to Cooper that night as soon as he had returned home from school. Teaching seven year olds was tiring but add on parents' evening and Blaine was exhausted. He hadn't heard from Kurt during the day, no text to ask about dinner, so Blaine assumed they would get take-out now that he had returned. Slipping off shoes and laying back on the sofa, the silence turned worrisome and he called out to Kurt to find only silence.

"What do you mean he's gone?" Cooper asked, "Gone to the shops? Gone to a bar?"

"No Coop, gone," Blaine said calmly, like he expected it all along, "Packed his bags, turned over the photo frame of us on our wedding day, left a note. He's gone."

"Well shit…" Cooper said, "What did the note say?"

Blaine stared at it again, such simple script, such simple words that told Blaine nothing.

"I'm sorry, I can't."

"Oh."

Blaine shook his head and bit his lip in an effort not to cry on the phone. He had done that so many times since 'it' had happened, he was a little surprised he still had tears left to cry. He slumped in his seat.

"I'm coming over," Cooper said and there was a rustling on the other line.

"You don't have to do that," Blaine said pathetically, not giving him a reason.

"Don't be silly squirt, this needs serious music therapy and alcohol and a definite plan of action," Cooper said confidently, more shuffling and a clink of his keys and he was obviously out the door. "On my way, see you soon."

With the phone call ended Blaine finally had time to look around the empty apartment. Kurt had taken a good selection of clothes and his basic toiletries but not much more, though the apartment wasn't the same without him. Blaine had thought the place was devoid of love before, now he had never felt more alone.

* * *

"Blimey you look rough," Cooper said as soon as Blaine answered the door. Blaine stood back, let Cooper enter and he dragged his feet to the sofa where his too long sweat pants dragged along the floor. Kurt used to think it was adorable now he would be sure to tell him off.

"What's been happening? Why did he leave?" Cooper asked immediately, opened a beer and sat back, expecting a long conversation.

Blaine gave him a pointed look as if to say 'really?'

"Ok, ok," Cooper said, "But you've suffered too Blaine, you should be working this out together."

Blaine deflated again, his shoulders slumped, his fight all gone.

"Hey don't give up," Cooper said, "If there was ever a couple in love it was you two, it was sickening actually. You had everything."

"But we lost it all," Blaine said quietly, the admission the first time he had acknowledged that things had been very wrong for quite a time.

Cooper didn't know what to say, missed her little giggle just as much as he knew Blaine and Kurt did. How could you say it would get better when the worst had happened? When no happiness seemed possible?

"Why now? Why did he leave today?"

Blaine thought back to the last time he had seen Kurt. He had got up so early this morning that he only had time to kiss Kurt briefly on the cheek and be gone before a long day at school. Kurt rarely spoke of his work anymore, rarely asked about Blaine's day; life just continued. But the night before had been lonely.

They stayed in the same bed merely as a formality now, no sex, no touching had happened for a very long time. It seemed both of them had forgotten how to feel, only numbness surviving. It was easier that way.

But Blaine had been restless, had got up in the middle of the night unable to sleep and considered getting warm milk. His eyes alighted on his guitar in the corner of the room and he played quietly, softly plucking on the strings so as not to disturb Kurt.

_Let me hold you _

_For the last time _

_It's the last chance to feel again _

_But you broke me _

_Now I can't feel anything _

_When I love you, _

_It's so untrue _

_I can't even convince myself _

_When I'm speaking, _

_It's the voice of someone else _

_You can't play on broken strings _

_You can't feel anything that your heart don't want to feel _

_I can't tell you something that ain't real _

_Oh the truth hurts _

_And lies worse _

_How can I give anymore _

_When I love you a little less than before _

_Oh what are we doing _

_We are turning into dust _

_Playing house in the ruins of us _

_Running back through the fire _

_When there's nothing left to save _

_It's like chasing the very last train when it's too late _

_You can't play on broken strings _

_You can't feel anything that your heart don't want to feel _

_I can't tell something that ain't real _

_Well truth hurts, _

_And lies worse _

_How can I give anymore _

_When I love you a little less than before _

_Let me hold you for the last time _

_It's the last chance to feel again_

Blaine looked up as he finished playing to find Kurt watching him by the door, leaning on it for support. He had watched it all and silent tears had been falling down his face. Blaine was startled. It had been Blaine that had cried for all these months, never Kurt.

"You're awake," Blaine stated, "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't," Kurt said, "I was awake."

Blaine nodded. It wasn't unusual for either of them to have insomnia. They would often meet in the kitchen in the middle of the night, almost acknowledge each other then return to bed. No sleep was ever gotten and definitely no solace accepted or offered. Both looked older now, bigger bags under their eyes, lines where none had been before.

"You still sing beautifully," Kurt said, as if he had forgotten.

"Thanks."

Blaine placed the guitar on its stand in the corner of the room and got up to go back to bed, Kurt following behind.

Nothing was said but as Blaine turned round so his back was facing Kurt, his usual pose for sleeping, he heard a rustling of the sheets. Kurt's cold arms snaked around his waist and clung on tight without saying a word, just for a moment, a simple squeeze then the arms were gone. Blaine was surprised into silence but later as he finally drifted off to sleep he thought he could hear a whisper, a ghost of a song:

_Let me hold you for the last time _

_It's the last chance to feel again_

* * *

**A/N**: Let me know what you think and I'll continue if there's enough interest. Sorry for all the sadness again…

**Song quoted**:

'Broken Strings' by James Morrison and Nelly Furtado.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: Thanks for the interest so far and the reviews. Here's another chapter to hopefully whet your appetite!

* * *

The row was stupid, really juvenile but with his lack of sleep and being so busy at Vogue, Kurt just didn't have time for stupid and juvenile things. He had shouted at Blaine until he understood then he had given him the silent treatment, eventually driving Blaine mad with worry. Blaine had begged to be listened to, which resulted in another row. Kurt couldn't remember why they had fought, looking back, something about money maybe or the mess in the kitchen – Blaine always had been a messy cook – but now it didn't matter. He sat in his office, supposed to be looking over designs, and he remembered the conversation they had afterwards. The make-up sex had been fabulous but as they were cuddling, something Kurt knew they never did now, Blaine whispered in the darkness.

_"We should make a promise that we always talk, always share what's bothering us so big rows like that don't happen again."_

_ "We did share," Kurt said smiling, "Probably a bit too much."_

_ "No I mean before it happens, don't let resentment build and come out in a big burst of emotion. We should talk more often, make more time for us."_

_ Kurt nodded so his chin tapped Blaine's head where it rested on his chest. _

_ "Ok I promise," Kurt said, "But I mean the make-up sex is always fantastic, we shouldn't give rowing up altogether." _

_ Blaine sat up on his elbow and gave Kurt a cheeky look._

_ "Oh little rows can be arranged every so often," he said, smiling before diving in for another kiss along Kurt's jaw which always drove him wild._

The pictures of crisp suits in the fall line were rather bland but Kurt paid them no attention as he remained in his office now. Blaine had always known what to say to make things right again; they would both apologise and return to normal. But they had Lily then, little rows more frequent because they were tired and overworked with a young child in the house, and it had been easier to return to normal, to make things right. They were a family, a precious unit and nothing could shake them.

Kurt realised as he sat sipping his third coffee of the morning that Blaine had been right, it was the lack of communication that made their downfall but Kurt had no way to get it back. The thought of talking to Blaine about Lily was so dreadful he couldn't do it. He knew Blaine needed someone to talk to, had in many ways felt her passing so differently to Kurt that he couldn't understand it. But it didn't need to be discussed, the worst had happened and there were people to blame, but nothing brought her back, what was the point.

* * *

"You didn't sleep?" Cooper asked as soon as Blaine entered the kitchen at six o'clock in the morning. Cooper was sleeping on the sofa and try as he might Blaine was never quiet enough. He stumbled, kicking the coffee table and yelped in pain at his stubbed toe.

"No," Blaine said, his startled face settling when he realised it must be obvious. "I never sleep."

"When did this start little bro?" Cooper sat up wrapping the blanket around his knees and facing Blaine who sat at the kitchen table while the kettle boiled.

When had it started? Blaine wondered. He knew they had been busy whilst Lily was alive, hardly able to make time for Lily let alone any time for just the two of them. There was always a glance, a quick hug before the madness of the day began and Blaine would know they were ok, that their love meant everything. But perhaps everything was so wrapped up in Lily that with her gone, their lives were never the same.

"It was the funeral," Blaine started, thinking back. Cooper didn't understand, hadn't really seen the aftermath, and it showed on his face. Funerals were always tough but Blaine knew it triggered the start of their demise.

_The funeral was black. The clouds were dark and ominous, hanging low in the sky as they buried Lily, her little body lowered into the hard ground. A large crowd had gathered, so many tears that Blaine knew even in her short life she had touched so many. He was inconsolable, his chest heaving out breaths, his face a red puffy mess but nothing could be said, nothing could be done, and Kurt just stood there, silent tears working their way down his face. _

_ Afterwards, at the wake, Blaine hadn't been able to entertain like Kurt, hadn't wanted inane conversation or comments about how wonderful Lily had been. He couldn't do it, so he left Kurt to handle it on his own, knew he was so much better without Blaine to worry about too. Blaine had gone to his room, then Lily's that had remained like a shrine to their beautiful baby girl. He had sobbed into her favourite teddy, took in the smell of her pink cardigan and was inconsolable until he could barely breathe and it hurt in his chest. Burt had come to say goodbye a little later, Rachel had simply given him a hug when she left, no words left to say but Kurt had said nothing. After packing away, he had returned to bed, slipped in under the covers and turned his back. No words, no hugs, no tears. Blaine had to feel for the both of them._

"That must have been tough on Kurt," Cooper said, "He obviously hasn't dealt with it properly, just got on with his life."

Blaine was annoyed, sat up straight at the kitchen table, looked accusingly at Cooper who made the remark in innocence.

"Who said he had to just get on with his life? No one said he couldn't grieve, no one said he had to be brave. Why couldn't he cry like everyone else?"

"That's not always how people do it Blaine," Cooper said kindly, "He's obviously devastated, his life hasn't carried on. He's over."

Blaine hadn't thought about it like that, had spent so many months and weeks wishing and praying that Kurt would talk to him, cry at least once, tell him how he felt. Blaine knew his own face displayed his emotions so freely, that he never kept any secrets and he was so desperate to share with Kurt, to feel together. It never occurred to him that Kurt was so broken that he couldn't speak, that he felt his life was over. Blaine sunk lower in his seat, his back no longer straight with indignation. He was defeated.

"I need him Cooper," Blaine said weakly, "If Lily dying made my life lose colour then without Kurt it just won't be, I won't be."

"Then you need to get him to talk to you," Coop said.

"How?" Blaine asked.

"I'll speak to him," Cooper said standing up, his blanket dropping to reveal he still slept naked. Blaine covered his eyes quickly.

"Oh sorry," Cooper said, quickly picking up the blanket, "But you have seen it all before." Blaine laughed.

"I'll go to Vogue, demand he speak to me," Cooper said, walking to Blaine's bedroom where he intended to change.

"Everything will be alright little bro, trust me."

* * *

"There's someone here for you," Enrique said by the door to Kurt's office, "Says it is urgent and he must speak to you now." Enrique looked intrigued, like he might set up a chair to see what might happen.

"What's his name?" Kurt asked.

"He wouldn't say."

"Then he can make a proper appointment," Kurt said annoyed, "I'm busy."

He lifted up the many photos he had to peruse before the hour was up but Enrique shrugged his shoulders.

"He said if you wouldn't see him, he would run around naked until you did." Enrique laughed and watched Kurt's face change from annoyance to defeated resignation.

"Cooper," Kurt mumbled, his shoulders slumped. "Let him in."

Kurt stacked the various photos as if that might order his mind as well as his office and was a little surprised to see Cooper so contrite as he came in.

"How are you doing Kurt?" Cooper asked as soon as he sat down in the chair opposite him.

"I take it you've seen Blaine?"

Cooper nodded.

"Well you don't need me to explain how I am," Kurt said, looking back at the top photo, anything to avoid looking in those piercing blue eyes that made him want to reveal everything.

"Yes I do," Coop said, "Blaine is devastated. He's lost without you Kurt."

"No he's lost without Lily, he won't miss me at all."

"That's not true," Coop said, "If he was lost before that was because he had already lost you. You won't talk to him, he has no one."

Kurt lowered his head, feeling overwhelmed. He swallowed repeatedly, blinked once or twice and lifted his head again.

"I can't do it," he said, "I can't live such a pretence. We've been lost for so long and just pretend to the world that we have each other. There is nothing now."

"You lost Lily, not each other. You can get through this if you talk."

Kurt shook his head.

"Can you move on without Blaine?" Cooper asked suddenly, causing Kurt to look at him properly. "Can you live again?"

No matter what had happened, Kurt couldn't really imagine a life without Blaine. He wasn't living now but without Blaine he knew it wouldn't change. The thought of their wedding day, how in love they were, how unbreakable, it just seemed so far away.

"I haven't lived for so long," Kurt said.

"Neither has Blaine," Cooper said simply, "Why don't you work it out together?"

Kurt thought it through, the act of talking, hugging, possibly crying with Blaine was all too much. He shook his head.

"I can't talk to him about it, I can't bear it when he cries."

"Then write to him," Cooper said, a bright hopeful smile on his face like he had just invented sliced bread. "Yeah write him letters or send him emails. The only deal is that you have to be completely honest – both of you."

Kurt thought it over, the idea not completely stupid and it would be easier.

"Would Blaine be up for it?" Kurt asked.

"Of course," Coop said, "He's desperate for you Kurt. He would do anything to get you back."

Kurt felt it again, his chest constricted and he swallowed. He was loved that much even when he was so broken and lost.

"Ok, I'll try."

"Good, where are you staying?"

"With a friend from work, but…"

"I know, I won't tell Blaine, just so he knows you're ok," Cooper said. Kurt nodded. "I'll tell him to expect communication then, you start it?"

Kurt nodded again, unable to trust his voice. He felt so small and lost that just the thought of writing letters to explain even a fraction of how he felt made him want to cry. He had become so good at stopping the tears, controlling it all that Blaine might never have known.

"Take care Kurt," Cooper said, getting up and patting Kurt's shoulder, "I'm here if you need me too."

"Thanks Coop, you're a good brother," Kurt said.

"I wasn't when he was growing up so I'm making up for lost time. Bye."

Kurt took one glance at his neat stack of photos, his pristine office, so tidy, his life so ordered and controlled that he lowered his head and cried quietly. Life without Lily and now without Blaine - the first time he had allowed himself to feel.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: I know this has been hard for some of you to read but it gets better in this chapter I promise. They're working it out and I've gone back to writing letters for Blaine and Kurt, I can't help it!

* * *

Dear Blaine,

This feels silly. I'll go ahead and write it now. You would think me even sillier if you saw the scrunched up balls of paper littered by my feet now: my failed attempts to start writing to you. I guess I never thought I'd have to write to you like this, ever, but here I am writing because I can't speak.

It seems pathetic after all the discussions and heartfelt conversations we had in those hours before the dawn when we were younger, before we felt the need to grow up and behave like responsible adults. When did that happen? I always hoped we'd avoid that. I'd ask if we could erase all the pain and start again but I know that can never happen and maybe I wouldn't be the same. Too much has changed for us to ever think we can have what we had before. I think that thought is the most painful.

I know my leaving hurt you but I hope you understand we couldn't go on; that with me gone maybe you can heal a bit. I'd rather feel alone and so painfully sad on my own. I think it hurt to feel like that with you in the bed next to me. I hope you get it, I hope you don't hate me.

Love Kurt

xx

* * *

Dear Kurt,

Thank you for writing to me, I know it must have been hard. It is hard now. Don't feel silly about writing; I don't think any worse of you because we couldn't communicate in other ways. I guess Lily was a bridge between us for so long.

I can't talk, or write it seems, about Lily even now without crying and I know you always struggled with that. I guess we can leave that for another day.

I don't hate you, I could never hate you but I do hate this situation, what we have become. You wrote about the conversations we used to have long into the night in your letter and it reminded me. I had forgotten.

When I first arrived in New York, a year after you paved the way, I really thought we were done with all the suffering and pain. I saw only a happy ending in sight and when we got married I knew you were my prince and I was done searching.

That night, our first night together in New York before I started NYADA, we stayed up all night talking about so much and nothing I can really remember now. I only remember laughing and kissing you so much. I can see you now sprawled on the bed completely naked, your head thrown back in laughter, tears leaking from your eyes as your stomach quivered with mirth. I think that is my favourite memory of you.

You see we never used to have such issues before. We can get that back again I hope, I really will try anything to get 'us' back again, Kurt. Anything.

Thanks for writing,

Love Blaine

xx

* * *

Cooper was due to return to LA next week where he was to finish shooting the pilot for a television show which was currently on location here in New York. Cooper was convinced, like before, that this was his big break and Blaine, being in a more optimistic mood now that Kurt was communicating with him, did nothing to dampen his mood. Cooper had been staying in a hotel but as soon as Kurt left he moved in without really asking Blaine's permission. Blaine had gotten so used to the silence after a long day at work, he would occasionally look at Cooper as he rambled on and wonder how he was related to such a person.

"What?" Cooper suddenly said, stopping his conversation as he ate his fries. "Do I have something on my face?"

Blaine shook his head. "No, I just never knew someone could talk so much."

"Ouch," Cooper said, "Well someone has to be cheery."

"I'm sorry Coop, I'm just used to the silence."

"That was always your problem, you never spoke about what was bothering you until it was obvious. You would always pretend it was ok. Do you remember that time you fell off your bike, scraped your leg really badly and still didn't tell mom because you thought she'd worry?" Cooper laughed at the memory.

"Hey, I just care about people's feelings, I don't want them to worry about me."

"I know squirt," he said suddenly ruffling his brother's hair despite its gelled confines. "But sometimes people know something is wrong and want to know how they can help, they want to go through it with you."

Blaine looked at the few fries on his plate and swallowed painfully. The thought that Kurt had felt that, wanted him to discuss it with him so he could help, made an uncomfortable feeling circle in his stomach like guilt.

"Hey," Cooper said, trying to break him from his reverie, "Don't do that, don't go into your head. What is it?"

"Kurt just wanted me to talk, that was it," Blaine said quietly.

"Kurt needs to talk too," Cooper said smiling sadly, "It's something you both struggle with."

"I thought the letter writing might help things along," Blaine said quietly, as if now he knew better. Kurt hadn't come back; he didn't even know where he was.

"Look he needs time just like you."

"No I don't need time, I need him back," Blaine said angrily, "His disappearance won't make this easier. I still miss him like crazy."

"Then tell him that in your letter," Cooper said kindly.

"I can't," Blaine shook his head. "He must know that already."

"I don't think he does," Cooper said, "I think he really believes you miss Lily more. He can't see a way out of this either."

"But I know he blames me," Blaine said, his voice even quieter now if possible.

Cooper rarely cried, it was always saved for especially tragic occasions, in fact as he thought about it, the last time had been Lily's funeral, now ten months ago. But this time, at the sight of Blaine so small and compact, his head bowed against all the guilt, weighed down with all the suffering, his eyes filled.

"I know he loves you Blaine," Cooper said, his voice breaking a little. Blaine looked up. "Anyone seeing you two together at your wedding and when you welcomed that perfect little girl into your home for the first time would say the same. So much love doesn't come along all the time Blaine and it doesn't die that easily either."

Blaine didn't know what to say, he had almost given up hope.

"Tell him," Cooper said emphatically, "Tell him you still love him and that he means so much. Tell him before it's too late."

* * *

"Kurt?" Isabelle said quietly as she popped her head round his office door. She looked concerned as Kurt tapped away furiously at the computer in front of him, worried that she would disturb him. Her quiet manner and her apologetic pose startled him, his eyes instantly at her concerned face.

"Isabelle," he said, "What can I do for you?"

"I think it's more what I can do for you," she said coming closer and gesturing to the chair opposite him, to which he nodded that she could sit.

'What do you mean?"

"Do you remember when you first joined Vogue, you called me your fairy godmother?" He smiled at the memory and nodded. He had felt so young then, so long ago that nothing weighed him down, nothing could stop him achieving. What had happened to him?

"I haven't had a proper conversation with you for quite a while," she said her expression softening, her eyes kind. "I've missed you."

"I've been busy, I'm sorry," he said. She shook her head.

"You have no more work than usual, yet you put in ten hours a week more than you used to. Does this mean you're less efficient?"

His mouth opened wide. What to admit to: having poor time-management skills or the avoidance of his lonely bed? Kurt Hummel was never going to give the impression he was poor at his job.

"You've caught me," he said.

"I thought so," she said smiling, "So how have you been? How's Blaine?"

At the mention of Blaine, a man he no longer spoke to apart from a letter earlier in the week, a man he once lived with, shared a home with, made a family with – well it all seemed so far away. He wasn't living that life now and Kurt was stupid to think that leaving would make even a tiny difference. His shoulders slumped and he avoided her gaze once again.

"Kurt? Where's Blaine?" she whispered.

"At home," he said calmly.

"So why don't you go home too," she said, standing up and turning off his computer. "You've done enough work for one day."

He remained in his seat as she walked to the door, convinced she had done her good deed for the day. She turned in surprise as she watched Kurt remain in his office.

"You're not going?"

"I don't live there anymore," he said.

She said nothing, watched Kurt as he sunk lower in his seat and refused to meet her gaze.

"I don't know what to say to him, I don't know how to fix it."

She waited and slowly, bit-by-bit, he relayed what had happened, why he had felt the need to leave and the attempt to communicate through letters.

"He's writing back?" she asked, still standing by the door.

Kurt nodded.

"Then take this time to really tell him how you feel, get everything out in the open that you couldn't say before."

"But some of it is really painful," he said, "I don't want him to think I blame or accuse him."

Isabelle had known what had happened with Lily, had watched Kurt store it up inside as he returned to work after two weeks of apparent grief. She had watched and waited, knowing it was never the end. He looked like even now he couldn't let himself grieve.

"Write down what you think and how you feel Kurt because that is the only way you can go forward."

"I don't know if I have any fight left," he said weakly. His head lower, Isabelle knew that he was right. She walked towards him and dragged him slowly upwards so he was nearly standing in front of her. His eyes didn't meet hers but she caught him as he tumbled forward with the weight of his tears. She hugged him tight until she could hear the muffled sobs and feel the wracking pain from his chest as he heaved in his breath.

Kurt had never cried like this since her funeral, never allowed the real and self-consuming grief to overwhelm him like now. He immediately thought to Blaine and how he had grieved the correct way, had done what was needed. Kurt had taken control when it wasn't needed.

"Feel better?" Isabelle said as Kurt parted from her, nervously trying to wipe at his red face.

"You need to tell him," she said, "And you're coming home with me tonight. I don't care who you're staying with, now you stay with me."

She took his hand and he let himself be led out.

* * *

Dear Blaine,

I guess I need permission. Permission to write about everything, to tell you all things. I don't want to break you anymore and I know I broke you, I know you miss Lily and I can't change anything but I wish everything was out in the open.

I was thinking this morning, as I brushed my teeth oddly enough, about your proposal at Dalton. It was perfect Blaine and so overwhelming at the same time. I saw all those faces, felt the rose petals fall down around me, heard the mixture of choirs singing for me, for us, but there was only you. Your shining amber eyes as you came closer, as you assured me that we were destined for each other, that your body craved me just as much as your soul. The song had been perfect too, the promise that 'all you need is love'. All of that seems silly now.

I believed it all then, that love was all you needed, that we could get through anything because we had been through it all. I really thought your cheating and being apart from you for a year was as bad as it was going to get. How stupid.

'All you need is love'. Is it all you need? Well we proved that wrong didn't we? I feel like I invested so much love into our family together, you, me and Lily, that with one part removed and gone, we're nothing. I do love you Blaine, I do but it's not all we need, I know that now.

I'm not sure why I'm writing this. Isabelle said something about revealing everything, writing it all down because I can't say it. Maybe she's right. There is no blame left, but maybe if you let me, I can write down everything, leave it in the open and see where we can go from there.

I do love you Blaine, I promise. I think I have just enough fight to write that much and try to make this work.

Love Kurt xx

* * *

Dear Kurt,

I'd do anything to make this work Kurt, I promise. I love you too and I give you permission. Write what you need to say, lay it all out and we can definitely see how it goes.

I wonder if I could do the same. When Lily first died, I couldn't breathe through all the tears, I couldn't imagine ever being able to laugh or talk again, even to you. But as the weeks wore on, I needed to talk, to speak to you about Lily, to remember her, to show you how I felt. You closed off, you hid away and I couldn't bear it so I parted too, I separated to protect myself. It's been so long since we spoke I think all we have left is letters.

Write to me as much as possible Kurt. Tell me everything. I'd do anything for you Kurt, even hear the worst. I love you that much.

You write in your letter that you don't believe 'all you need is love' anymore, that life killed the dream, well it didn't Kurt. If you don't believe anymore then it is my job to help you.

Love causes me to write this letter. Love makes you write to me. Love stops me from giving up, love reminds us where we've come from. Love was swirling in our home and we can get it back because it never dies. I see it in your eyes and feel it in those warm arms you snuck around my waist the night before you left.

Love means I will listen, love will cause you to share.

Don't give up Kurt.

Love Blaine xx


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